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THE EAST AFRICAN-NAIROBI-KENYA
Opinion
Monday, December 23, 2002
More Guns Than Hoes: Christmas in the North
By CHARLES ONYANGO-OBBO
On December 14, the Aga Khan Primary School (AKPS) in Kampala closed the year with the second of its cultural shows. In the past two years, the school has seen a dramatic improvement in its fortunes under the stewardship of David Ogajja, a hunky Kenyan with an unflappable demeanour, who is mercifully economical with his words, and has a penchant for keeping time.
The tone of things has changed in subtle, but important ways. In the past, there would have been a Luganda dance, by Baganda pupils, and an Indian dance by Indian pupils.
In a small but shrewd shift, cultural events are mostly done by classes, thus ensuring that an Arab dance will have Arabs, Indians, Koreans, Baganda, Iteso and so forth.
Drawing from the very-21st centuryish mantra of globalisation, AKPS theme-titled the festival "Different People, One Culture."
The reality, however, showed how difficult it is for Uganda to run away from the demons of the early 20th century. On the first weekend, the little ones put a dance from northern Uganda.
Since 1987, northern Uganda has been ravaged by rebellion.
Not surprisingly, at one point the children came on stage and put on a warrior dance from the north.
But all they could manage were a few bare chests. Their weapons were small wooden spears, looking like the ones sold to tourists at the Crafts Village near the National Theatre. The shields were from the same stock; with some having bright batik facades.
Proving that war is not kindergarten stuff, after jumping about for a few minutes, the smaller pupils in the pack got exhausted and withdrew to the sidelines. It was, nevertheless, a gallant if not colourful effort, for which they were rewarded with a round of applause.
The children didn�t realise that their war dance, from another perspective, was a symbolic jig for peace.
If the warring sides in the northern conflict were using benign weapons like the kids on stage, then the conflict would have been less painful.
But most of all, if like the children, the fighters too got tired, put away their weapons and went home, everyone would be the better off for it.
But they don�t. And their weapons only get deadlier, pouring into the war theatre like the monsoon rains with every passing week of combat.
In fact, in northern Uganda, we may have finally achieved the feat of populating the area with more guns than hoes.
Meanwhile, the army has once again declared a "victory." This simply means everyone will go home or to the bush for Christmas, nurse their wounds, and return to combat in the New Year.
The AKPS cultural weekends ended with yet another reminder that fate can be a fickle mistress. A bus owners� association has bought a choice piece of land near the school.
AKPS, apparently, tried to buy the land but lost out to the bus owners. The transporters plan to build a terminal there. Soon, the long queues of buses honking loudly, the madding crowds, the stampede of the mob, the raucous pursuit of pickpockets who�ve robbed a hapless traveller, will be just up the road.
A friend whose son goes to AKPS gave me Thomas Friedman�s book The Lexus and the Olive Tree as a present last year.
Another last week wrote me extolling the book. "You will see the folly of saying we are in the same global economy when some of us are arguing where to grow the next olive tree, who owns which olive tree, when in the same economy 30 men and 20 robots can run a Toyota Lexus factory which makes 300 cars per day!" he said.
Inside the fence, AKPS can have its globalisation dream. But if it loses the argument about where an olive tree should be grown, it will end up with its own war at the school gates.
Charles Onyango-Obbo is managing editor in charge of convergence at the Nation Media Group.
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